


my highs hit a new low

by lco123



Series: I Can't Lose You Too: The Adventures of Hanna and Spencer Falling in Love [1]
Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:46:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Spencer doesn’t realize what she’s doing until it’s already happened.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	my highs hit a new low

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what this is or where it came from, but here you go. Vague spoilers through 7x06. Title from "Bones" by MS MR.

Spencer doesn’t realize what she’s doing until it’s already happened.

She’s been back in D.C. for a few months, settling into her new job fairly well—which is to say, stressfully—and going out too much on the weekends. It didn’t start that way, but all of her real friends are scattered to their various corners of the country, busy and anxious themselves, and Spencer’s pretty sure they’re not finding time for each other on purpose. Because talking leads to thinking, and thinking leads to guilt, and Spencer has enough on her plate without worrying about how Aria and Emily and god, _Hanna_ are all coping with their own feelings of self-reproach.  They all need a little time. (That’s what they said nearly six years ago, and then it was Alison who brought them back together. It’s always been Alison.)

So that means that Spencer fills her free evenings with other people. Work people and friend people, men and women who don’t know how skilled Spencer is at picking a lock, or exactly how much blood is on her hands. People who she prays won’t Google her. And Spencer doesn’t really like to talk to these people, because she’s afraid they’ll ask too many questions, and so they go out to noisy bars where Spencer can dance and drink and actively not think about the state of her life.

(Which, for anyone keeping score: 

  1. recently helped cover up a murder, right before… 
  2. …breaking up with her boyfriend…
  3. …who’s probably now back together with her best friend, but… 
  4. …she hasn’t talked to any of her best friends in almost two months, so she doesn’t really know.)



And this is how Spencer finds herself dancing with a blonde woman named either Cindy or Stacy. “Dancing” is probably too generous a word; they’re basically fucking with clothes on in public. Cindy or Stacy seems like the type of girl who probably started college with a straight roommate and ended the semester with a questioning one—she’s got that particular brand of lesbian swagger about her. She’s really pretty: a bit shorter than Spencer, with wavy blonde hair past her shoulders, big bright eyes, and jeans that look like they were painted on. She’s wearing a snapback, and every so often she’ll take it off and plunk it on Spencer’s head, pulling the brim close like a lasso. 

Spencer is crazy turned on. She’s pretty certain she and Cindy or Stacy are going to have sex—they probably won’t even make it back to Spencer’s apartment. Spencer is four drinks in and she just doesn’t care. Cindy or Stacy smells like raspberries and weed, and there’s something familiar or comforting about her face that Spencer can’t quite place. Before she knows it, she’s dragged Cindy or Stacy into the bathroom, barely latching the stall door before she pushes her up against the wall.

Cindy or Stacy knows what she’s doing. She kisses Spencer deeply, open-mouthed and hedonistic, and takes control quickly. Spencer’s okay with that, right now; she just wants to _feel._ Cindy or Stacy wastes no time, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down the front of Spencer’s neck before shoving a bit of Spencer’s flimsy top and bra cup away in one motion, attaching her mouth to a nipple. Spencer hisses at the feeling and shamelessly bucks her hips, trying to find some friction. Cindy or Stacy complies, unbuttoning Spencer’s jeans one-handed and dipping into her underwear. She slides two fingers in easily—Spencer’s so wet, she’s been so wound up all night—and pumps them in and out while her other arm attempts to brace Spencer against the wall. Spencer feels the uncoiling happening quickly (it would be almost embarrassing if she cared what Cindy or Stacy thought of her). Soon she’s coming hard, Cindy or Stacy just barely keeping her from spasming to the ground. 

Spencer bites down roughly on her lip, enough to hurt. She’s not sure why she’s doing it, but then it hits her: the taste of blood in her mouth is a small price to pay for not calling out Hanna’s name.


End file.
